Page 142 of A Duet of Darkness and Dreams

“You’re done,” I say, squatting down to look into his teary, bloodshot eyes. “You’re finished. And if you ever come near Izzy again, I will fucking kill you. Do you understand?”

He stares up at me, his rage making him shake. “I’ll have you arrested!” he spits. I stand up and look at the little receptionist who’s been watching with wide eyes. “Flora, did you see what happened here?” I ask her.

Her eyes bounce between me and Simon before she finally drops her hands. “He tripped,” she says finally. “Nasty fall, but a total accident.”

I smirk and look back down at Simon. “You really should be more careful.”

With a rough shove of my boot to his side, I grab the door handle. “See you later, Flora.” I call back. “Tell your boyfriend there’ll be two tickets to this Friday’s Carnal Sins show at the box office under your name.”

She lights up. “Thank you so much!”

Then I’m gone, pulling the tie from my throat as I walk down the street and tossing it into a nearby trash can. I wish I could string him up by that tie, but he’s not off the hook yet, and I smile to myself as I race to my car to put the rest of my plan into motion.

CHAPTER 45

These Dreams

ISABELLA

It’s early enough in the morning that parking right in front of theEarwormbuilding is easy. Dave opens the door for me, but I’m quivering and can’t stop wringing my hands together.

“What’s wrong?” Dave asks.

“Are you sure he wanted to see me?”

“Of course I’m sure. I spoke to him myself. Didn’t realize calling after hours was the right way to get ahold of newspaper editors.”

“Yeah, they can be a bit of a weird bunch,” I say, shifting back and forth. “I just—I don’t know . . . it all seems too easy. His secretary was adamant they were through with me.”

He grabs my hands. “Maybe she confused you with someone else?”

“No, she mentioned the article . . . the picture. She knew it was me.”

He glances over my shoulder at the building, then back. “Listen, I don’t know for sure what’s going to happen. But he wanted to see you and I promise, if anyone says anything bad against you, it’llbe the last thing they ever do.”

“But—”

“Izzy, what do you have to lose at this point?” he asks.

I take a long shaky breath, then straighten the white leather jacket Dave got me. With a sharp nod, he clasps my hand and we walk toward the door. As the elevator lights take us higher and higher, my nerves seem to settle. If I’m here, I’m committing to it, and I’m not leaving without saying my piece.

With a ding, the doors open and with only a slight hesitation, we exit out into a quietly busy office space. There are a number of cubicles where a few sleepy-eyed journalists and reporters are sitting, sipping coffee and answering telephones. But I head right toward a mahogany desk at the far end of the room, behind which a sleek wooden door and paneled wall stands like an obelisk.

There appears to be no one around, but when we approach the secretary’s desk, there is a steaming cup of tea on the desk and a half-eaten blueberry danish. Wherever she is, she’s around somewhere.

“Should we wait?” Dave asks.

I shake my head. “No. I’m not waiting anymore.”

Grabbing the brass handle, I open the door and walk inside to find Mister Lewis sitting at his grand desk. When he looks up, his eyes go wide and his mouth drops open.

“Miss Rodriguez,” he says, standing and quickly pulling on his suit jacket. “I’m so very glad to see you.”

I press my lips together and stand as tall as I can. “Hello, sir.”

“Please, come in.” He walks around us and closes his office door. “You must be Dave Noblar,” he says, reaching out to shake Dave’s hand.

“Yeah,” Dave says. “I believe we spoke on the phone.”

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